


Gabriel's Week

by lckychrm



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Gabriel Appreciation Week 2018, Gabriel is Hawk Moth, Gen, emilie's name is still adele because her name wasn't known back when this was written!, mentions of Adrien/Chat and Marinette/Ladybug and Audrey as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-07-23 08:05:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16154993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lckychrm/pseuds/lckychrm
Summary: My set of drabbles for Gabriel Appreciation Week!





	1. Father's Day

“Can we take another break? I’m not feeling well again!” A very dizzy Adele Agreste asked, her hands already moving unconsciously towards her mouth to prevent any disaster.

“Yeah, sure!” Nathalie told her. “Do you want me to go with you?” But the only response was the loud thud the studio door made as soon as her friend sprinted out the door. She shook her head and sighed. It was impossible to see her like that.

The photographer looked startled at Nathalie.“Dude is she okay? It’s the third time we are redoing this shoot and it’s the third time we have to stop it because she’s feeling groggy or whatever.”

“She’s fine, Michael. It’s just the flu.” She answered.

“Maybe she should check a doctor. That’s why they exist!”

“Maybe, Michael, you should tell her that. She won’t listen to anyone when it comes to doctors unless she’s nearly dying! Which is almost never.” She didn’t mean to scold the photographer that way but the truth had to be told! Adele was a great person but she was very stubborn when it came to some things. Health was one of them.

“I should be checking on her, anyway. I’ll let you know if we need to reschedule it, again.”  
  


* * *

 

  
When Nathalie reached the bathroom she saw her friend seated on her knees and her arms resting on the toilet seat. She was in such a hurry that she probably forgot to close the cubicle door.

Honestly, she had seen her far worse than that, but it was still kind of funny to Adele vulnerable that way. She suppressed a giggle and joined her.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m gr….” She was going to look at her friend but the sudden urge to throw up again made her face the toilet again. But it was a false alarm.  
Grabbing a bit of toilet paper, Adele cleaned her mouth and gave Nathalie a reassuring smile.

“As I was trying to say, I’m great! I feel absolutely drained but great.”

“I think that’s what happens when you are with the flu. You throw up and all that nasty stuff… If you had gone to the doctor, you would be cured by now! Seriously Adele how much does it cost you to grab a phone and schedule an appointment, huh? You’ve been like this for 3 days!  _3 days!_  You can’t keep pretending you’re fine!” She took her phone out of her jacket’s pocket and started dialling a number. “So if you don’t do it,  _I’ll do it for you!_ ”

“About that…” A hint of uncertainty hit Adele’s voice, Nathalie side eyed her. “I’m afraid  _I’m not with the flu_.”  
  


* * *

 

  
That night, Adele decided it was finally time to tell the news. Dinner seemed the best time to do it so while she waited, she planned a little speech on her head (that ended up being useless) and tried to control her nerves.  
  


* * *

  
“So how was your day, darling? Did you get anything done?” She spoke trying to make casual conversation.

“My day was good, thank you.” Satisfaction filled Gabriel’s voice. “We finally finished the spring/summer collection which means we’re on track again and will have everything ready for the next show. What about you?”

“Oh, just the usual! I had one shoot in the morning and during the afternoon I helped Nath getting rid of some of her work. Seriously, Gabe! If you keep overloading her with work, the poor girl will be on burnout faster than anyone in that company!” She made a small pause to drink water and to eat more, not giving him any time to answer and then proceeded. “Anyway, when we were done for the day I still had plenty of time left so I went to the fencing club to check up on things!”

“You can’t really hold up a day without going there, can you?”

“C'mon, you know it’s stronger than me! Also, it won’t be long until I can be fully back, or at least that was the prognosis three days ago…” She mumbled the last part, weirdly hoping that her husband wouldn’t hear it.

“What do you mean with ’ _that was the prognosis three days ago_ ’? Did your foot suddenly got worse?” He asked concerned.

“Oh, no! It’s not that! My foot’s amazing! You don’t need to worry about it, really!”

“So what is it then, Adele?”

She looked down at her plate and started to split food into its corners. After a while, she placed her cutlery down and met Gabriel’s icy blue eyes. Her look was serious but the smile on her face was clearly evident.

“Gabe…” She started slowly, placing her hands over his. “I honestly don’t know how to tell you this and I guess that as many little speeches I prepare, none will be more efficient than going straight to the point. So…” She tightened her grip and took a deep breath. “I’m  _pregnant!”_

The room fell into a deep silence, Adele’s words echoing on the walls. Gabriel’s expression was blank, the only (involuntary) reaction being his mouth wide open.

“You’re pregnant…” He whispered trying to process it. “Oh my God, Adele you’re pregnant!” He nearly screamed ecstatic. Her smile widened even more and her eyes were shining like diamonds now. Soon tears started falling down her face. It was impossible for her to hide her happiness.

“I know honey, I know!” She whispered. “We’re going to be  _parents_! Isn’t that amazing?”

“It surely is!” He chuckled, getting up to hug his wife. “Wow, I still can’t believe in all of this, darling!” Gabriel then placed his hand on his wife’s stomach and with his voice trembling with happiness and filled with infinite hope and excitement, he pronounced the first words to his future child.

_“Hi, little one! I can’t wait to meet you!”_


	2. Hero/Villain

About 15 years ago Papillon was Paris’ hero. An idol, an icon, a role model you blindly looked up to. **  
**

Now, he was back to active but with a completely different game. Instead of being the city’s saviour, Papillon was the one who spread horror, hatred and chaos all over the place. 

In his eyes, he was still doing the right thing, though. But not to the others.

“ _No one will understand_ ” He whispered in the emptiness of his lair, the statement looking a way to comfort him about his actions.

The ones who were once his fans now are poor souls who despise him the most, feeling bad about all the time and love they wasted over him, their empty hearts crushed by all the destruction that he caused.   
The young ones lived terrified of being caught on this manipulation net of his but had to learn how to mask it well in order to survive. He could sense it all but only the strongest among the weakest would be caught.

Paris was under this never-ending emotional dictatorship and if not the fantastic work of Ladybug and Chat Noir, things would be so much worse.

In fact, he used to have a partner to help him fight evil when his days were glorious ones. But that was a thing of the past and the past stays in the past. He prefers to work solo now because he has more freedom, more  _control_  over his plans.

“ _Partners are foolish._ ” He thinks to himself, every word sounding more bittersweet than the last one.

But what made him change so suddenly? What made a man from good turn to evil? What kind of thing made him cross the boundaries of good and bad, right and wrong, correct and incorrect?

_What was it?_

Of course the public doesn’t know the reason. Not the public, not the guardian, not  _his own son, hell!_  Not even Ladybug and Chat knew and they were confined to fight him, to prevent this ruthless entropy like a kind of prophecy that you avoid at all costs and want to badly believe it’s a lie but no matter what it always becomes real.

Some even believed that he changed his game out of pure fun, but a villain doesn’t do nothing for pure fun. He always has a reason, a motive strong enough to make him go mad and blind; Papillon’s was  _love_.

(What a clichê! But as they say,  _you do the craziest things for love_ )

Love made him restless, sleepless, insane, truly logical (more than what he used to be), trying to come up with the maddest plans to bring his love back.  
Love made him ecstatic but it also hurt him, made him desperate, broke him like a toy in the same way he was breaking every single Paris’ hopes and dreams.

“ _One day my love, I’ll bring you back._ ” He cried over an enormous painting, his tears gently washing away some hints of gold but only bringing more grief to him.

He was blindly sure he would bring her back, but at what cost? A cost higher than anything possible, a cost than in fact he couldn’t even pay:  _another innocent life._  
But he didn’t know it and he didn’t care to get informed about it because all that mattered was that she would be back.  
Everything seemed so simple, why making it harder?

During the next 4 years, Papillon was defeated by his enemies over and over; revised his plans countless times, did everything to primate his powers to an unthinkable level and most importantly, never gave up on chasing what once belonged to him.

One day, he did it. He got the so desired miraculouses and made his wish real.  
He got his love back,  _Paris_  got its emotions back, but unknowingly  _something would never be back._

“ _Marinette? Marinette! No, no, no, no! Please don’t give up on me!_ ” A very familiar voice screamed inside his head, panic and hatred spreading more and more like a virus and becoming stronger that one thousand men. He knew those feelings too well and felt this nostalgic empathy for the unfortunate voice.  
Now he also knows the price to pay for his reckless attitude. But surprisingly he still thinks it was worth it. (Of course he thinks.)

Today, neither Papillon  _the hero_  and Papillon  _the villain_  are on duty, their opposite legacies being the only thing that keeps them alive. But somewhere in the centre of Paris, the man behind that mask carries the weight an innocent death as a price for his love.


	3. Fashion Week

The alarm clock marked three in the morning. A sleepy Adele tapped instinctively the side of her bed only to find it cold and empty, the mattress intact as if there were two different beds on that frame.  
Nonchalantly, she turned to her side and went back to sleep, when near that ‘i’m sleeping but awake’ limbo, her eyes shot open, panic filling them.  _Why in the hell was she awake and alone in her bed at three in the morning, after all?_

Tripping over her feet, she left the bed and dragged herself out the room to look after her lost workaholic husband.

* * *

Looking at the studio’s ajar door, Adele shook her head and sighed. Gabriel was incorrigible. Every time a new Fashion Week approached, he would drown himself into endless work and designs only to have the best collection of the season. She thought it was absurd, all that work to culminate into some miserable twenty minutes of spotlight. But that was fashion, his work, his  _life_  and that was the price to pay to be someone in the industry.

She slowly opened the door, mentally preparing for the worst case scenario but this time what she saw was  _new_.

Instead of being awake, the almighty Gabriel Agreste was sleeping over sketches, mood boards and other imaginable art instruments, a warm light reflecting on his face and his soft snore filling the room.  
It would have been an adorable scenario if it wasn’t the nth time he overworked until exhaustion over a new collection and Adele had to go downstairs to save him from himself.

“Gabriel, sweetie, go to bed please.” She gently shook him awake.

“Mhmm..” He mumbled. “I can’t, I have to finish this dress.” Funny how he wasn’t moving a single muscle to work on it. He didn’t even bother to raise his head from the desk!

“ _Please._.” She insisted. “You’re exhausted. And your desk doesn’t make a good bed anyway.”

He tried to say something but his words were so slurred that it was impossible to understand. She didn’t need to, to be honest. Because knowing Gabriel as she knew, he was trying to defend himself on how he should finish that dress because the due to it was tomorrow or something like that. But Adele couldn’t see him that way. It just broke her seeing him pushing himself to the limits of what was  _human_.

“Look” She now started to massage his shoulders. “ We can even sleep on the couch if you feel too tired to go upstairs but…”

“I’ll go.” He finally answered. “I’ll go as long as you don’t leave to our bed to spend the rest of the night.”

“Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t leave you there for a thing.” Adele left out a soft giggle that probably made her husband wonder if he was dreaming or not. “There isn’t much left of the night, anyway.”

“What time is it?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

* * *

Tucked under some blankets and snuggled by her arms, Gabriel had finally found some peace of mind. His head was resting against Adele’s neck, his soft breath sending shivers down her spine and she took the chance to play with his hair.

She looked delighted at his calm expression, wishing they could stay like that forever, sharing their love and embrace, with no work and worries to haunt them.

“Good night.” She whispered happily, kissing the top of his head and drifting back to sleep.


	4. Young Gabriel

Ever since he was little, Gabriel had a thing for art. He remembers it well, looking at things around him and seeing a sudden potential coming from it to become something great, something notorious.

He was a visionary after all, only that he didn’t know what it meant back then.

When he was six, he remembers his mother plastering his drawings in front of her friend’s faces. She spoke proudly about every single thing he did, from the ordinary family portraits to his failed attempts to draw landscapes and clothes. Sometimes he would grab leafs and other things from the floor and arrange them together into a harmonic install that only  _he_  could understand and see through. That is the problem of a visionary, they are often misunderstood and judged by the lack of critical eye from outsiders. But it’s not their fault.

When Gabriel turned ten, their parents offered him his first sketchbook and a set of color pencils. He still remembers his delighted look, feeling every blank page with the tip of his fingers, thinking about how he could turn them into a world of his own.  
Soon it became the last in a pile of many sketchbooks, each one fuller of masterpieces compared to the last one.  
By then he was sure there was something different about him and his art, about the way he looked to the world and made wonders out of it. And that notion was mostly because other kids his age weren’t minimally interested in art whatsoever, the only thing invading their hormonal brains being football and mocking innocent ones.  
By then he was sure that art was more than a hobby for him, it was a way of expressing himself with more than one thousand words yet using none. A hideaway from the cruel world. And it was way more than a talent, more like a divine gift he was still learning how to use and benefit from.

With fifteen, his art teacher noticed his talent (more like his gift) and started helping him how to manage this powerful tool that was  _creativity._ They would stay in school after hours chatting about their ambitions and wildest fantasies while working on random drawings. The art teacher had been the first friend Gabriel had in years and the one who believed blindly in him and was always there for him when needed. Like how friends normally do, but Gabriel didn’t really know about that.  
One day he let him present some of his works in the school halls, during the school day. They were greatly appreciated by everyone but not by Gabriel. He looked at them and saw nothing more than some planned pencil strokes on white paper. Something was wrong with him and he didn’t know what! He was always so certain about his art and now a wave of doubt and uninterest crushed him like a bug. Could it be his end?  _No, it was only the beginning._

That day, when he came home, his little sister ran to him with a bunch of doll clothes on her hands. She whined endlessly about how boring and plain they were and that she was tired of them. In other words, she wanted him to  _design_ some clothes for her dolls.

Not wanting to let her down, Gabriel accepted the offer but told her to not expect much for the final result since he didn’t know how to sew and most importantly that his  _talent_  was fading away. (How dramatic, though.)  
Of course, the final result was astounding and her requests became more and more frequent. Gabriel didn’t mind though, it was an excuse for him to play with all the possible combinations of patterns and colors and mixing them together into a harmonious piece and to learn how to sew, of course.

On his sweet sixteen, he got his first sewing machine: a secondhand  _Singer Talent_. It was the launch of his dream, but he was still rather uncertain if it was the right path to follow or not.

His room stopped being a sanctuary of random thoughts to slowly become a tiny boutique: sketches, clothing patterns, pieces of fabric and threads glued all over the walls and spread all over the floor like this chaotic mess that was his head. His Singer would accompany him every afternoon, the infernal sound of the needle calming down the darkest corners of his mind.

He found himself hanging more often in sewing shops and department stores, reading more and more about fashion, always saving enough to buy the last issue of Vogue and hopelessly trying to recreate some of the designs he saw.  
Then he started to sneak up into fashion shows, looking closely and carefully at each design and its details. Taking down notes about how he could improve his style and trying to not be kicked out by security. (The wildnesses he did for fashion). But even with all this progress, a hint of uncertainty about it followed him everywhere as if appreciating fashion was committing a crime.

On his summer holidays, before going to university, he started working with a tailor in a shop. By day he would do nothing more than his work, but by night his enchanted hands touched every piece of fabric and turned them into astonishing masterpieces, probably not worth more than 98 francs but who cares about money when it’s sentimental value is way superior to it! Those clothes made him happy; they expressed his mood and reflected his true being, the purest image of himself and the best part was that anyone could see it, anyone could carry it with them and be proud about his clothes, proud about him!

Slowly, he started to make some changes to some of the works the tailor assigned him to (or at least thought in changes he could do) and during his free time he would become closer and closer to the tailor’s old sewing machine, creating such an intimate bond with it that made the needle break more than five times a day.

Piles and piles of his creations started to grow in the storage room and Gabriel panicked, not knowing what to do about that. The tailor didn’t know he overused his installations to feed a thirsty dream that was becoming too big to keep doing it at home. And what once began as an uncertainty ended up being a burning passion that now was too late to stop.

And finally on this sunny day, a lady opened the tailor’s door to look after him and rant about how marvelous, practical and fashionable his arrangements looked. She was truly amazed by his work and her eyes begged for more of it. So as a sign of gratitude, Gabriel packed some of the clothes that were hanging on the storage and gave it to her.

_“I can’t keep them all.”_  He said.  _“I’m sure you’ll make a great use of them, madame.”_

Looking at woman’s radiant smile and watching her dreamy posture when she left the store, Gabriel wondered what was this weird mixture of happiness and satisfaction that he never felt before and haunted him for the rest of the day.

And when his day was over and he locked the tailor’s door, he finally understood what it was. It was his uncertainty about fashion being finally knocked off by a solid confirmation that this would become the right path, no matter how hard he had to fight for it.

On that day, Gabriel Agreste was  _one hundred percent sure_  that fashion would become his  _life_.


	5. Day Off

“You should take a day off, sir.” Nathalie said, not taking her eyes out her desktop. “You’ve been overwhelmed with work and clearly stressed about it. That’s not good for either you or the company.”

Gabriel didn’t respond. He was so focused on his  _work_ that took him awhile to acknowledge he wasn’t alone on his office.

“ _Sir_.”

“As pleasing as a day off may sound, I can’t do it.” Predictable. “Empires don’t take days off, Nathalie.” He looked at her, his icy blue eyes, soulless and empty piercing right through hers as if they were looking for a bit of life to suck. Then he drown back into work.

“You know what’s ridiculous? The fact that if  _she_  was the one to tell you this, you would have surrendered immediately.”

Gabriel stopped moving his pencil and now the only sound that broke the ice (or built more of it) was the sound of the clock ticking. He knew Nathalie wasn’t wrong, oh gods blame him if she was but right now, with everything that happened, work was his only escape. It was the only way where he would forget about the twisted mess it was his life, at the moment.

“Don’t.” He whispered. “Days off mean nothing if I don’t have something or someone to spend my time with.”

Nathalie couldn’t help but let out a laugh filled with irony and anger.

“You must be kidding me! Not having someone to spend your time with?  _Gabriel,_  you have a _son_ who needs you! He literally craves for your attention and approval and you tell me you don’t have someone to spend your time with? Have you ever stopped to think about how he feels about all of this?”

She got up and moved towards his desk, each step becoming more intimidating than the last one. She was sick and tired of this game, of his behaviour towards everything, of  _him_. If no one had the guts to bring Gabriel back to earth, Nathalie would be the one to even if that cost her work.

“So what if you raise your ass off that chair and go take a day off and spend it with your son?” She paused for a second, wondering if she was having the right attitude. It was. “Adele may not be here anymore but Adrien is and he needs you more than ever.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

 

* * *

 

The next day, Gabriel cleared all his schedule and Adrien’s as well. Nathalie was right, he needed to be here for his son and he needed a day off as well, though he wouldn’t admit it.  
So why not combine the best of both worlds and having a day off with his son?

He knocked gently on Adrien’s door and opened it.

“Adrien.” He shooked him. “Wake up, son.”

Adrien thought he was dreaming when he heard his father’s voice. Was he really there waking him up, or was another illusion?

“Adrien!”

He turned to his side and looked into his father’s eyes, confusion and sleepiness making his expression.

“Dad, why are you even here? Is the world ending or something?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“Because,” Adrien was now sitting on his bed looking sternly at Gabriel. He really looked like his mother. “You never do this. So there must be a really good reason for you to be here and wake me up! Spit it out.” And he was grumpy in mornings as well! Or was this a trace that shown up later in his adolescence? Either way, Gabriel was sure that if his son was a girl, he would have thought for five seconds that the one on that bed was Adele.

“Well son, I have a day off and I figured out that we are not spending as much time together as we should have been. So I wondered if you didn’t want to spend the day with me. Like in the old times.”

_Like in the old times._ That last sentence echoed repeatedly in Adrien’s mind, eventually clearing every sign of a possible tantrum he would throw at his father for taking to long to notice he’s been absent ever since his mother vanished. Instead, an uncertain question came out.

“What about my schedule?”

“All clear, you don’t need to worry about a thing today.”

“And what are you planning to do with me?”

“That my son, it’s up to you. I want this day to be a way to know again who you are and what you like. I want this to be a new beginning to both of us and the better way to make this real is to leave you in control.”

Adrien was surprised at first to hear this. Was his father okay? He wasn’t like this anymore. It looked like the Gabriel from the past had come back and possessed his body, which, of course, wasn’t a bad thing and that made a hint of hope sparkling in Adrien’s heart.

With a smirk on his lips, Adrien stood up and answered confidently that he would accept his father’s offer.

This could end up being a great day for both.


	6. Tibet

“So,” Audrey Bourgeois pierced the newlyweds and sipped a bit of red wine. “Have you decided where you are going?”

“What?” Adele looked confusedly at the woman.

“Going where?” Gabriel said, almost completing what his wife just said.

“On your honeymoon, of course! Or you won’t be going on honeymoon?”

They stared at Audrey in disbelief and then at each other and then at Audrey again and then at each other, not quite sure of what to answer. The woman could be so noisy sometimes but this was a normal thing to ask, right?

“Mmmm” Adele hummed nervously, breaking the ice. “We don’t know… yet!”

“But honey, that can’t be! How can you not know such a thing!” Audrey was scandalized by the statement. “I had mine in Milan! It was stupendous and luxurious! Everything I could have asked for!” 

“You know… We don’t want to travel to any crowdy location. In fact, places like London, New York and Milan are crossed off our list. We work a lot on those cities and a honeymoon is supposed to be a relaxing and calm trip and not a current reminder of work.” Gabriel side eyed Audrey. It was clear that he wanted to finish this uncomfortable conversation with her but something told him that wouldn’t end as soon as he wanted.

“But!”

“No ‘buts’, sorry!” Adele shouted. ”This is our honeymoon Audrey, not yours! We don’t have any fault that we prefer a natural or a tropical place over other cities!” 

“But if you are so interested in knowing where we are going, we have been thinking in a place. It’s quiet, natural and exquisite. Everything that we are looking for.” Gabriel almost completed Adele’s speech once again. He tried to be as calm as ever but it wasn’t easy since he was sensing his wife’s anger and Audrey’s mocking intentions at the same time. Right now, if any of them said something wrong, things would not end well.   
‘ _Who decided to invite this brat, anyway?_ ’ He thought discreetly.

“Oh, and can I know what place is that?” She spat challengingly. 

“Yes, you can! It is Tibet.” 

Audrey laughed so hard that the whole room was looking at the three of them. Eventually, she stopped to catch some air and then she kept laughing.

“Tibet? What will you do in there? Training to be future monks?”

“What so funny about it Bourgeois?” 

Adele had already stormed off the room, boiling with rage and ready to punch Audrey if she saw her again in the next five minutes.

***  
“Were you serious when you mentioned Tibet to Audrey?” Adele asked curiously, looking at his husband through the vanity mirror.

“No, I said it so she could leave us but it only did worse.”

“I see.” Adele’s eyes were shining now. She looked like a kid staring at a candy shop and if Gabriel did not know her, he would be starstruck by her look. Well, he already was. The candles in their bedroom did an amazing job enhancing her features. But she wanted something, that’s what that look meant.

“What are you thinking about?”

“You know” She paced slowly, circling her now husband and stopped right behind him. She placed her hands on his shoulders and whispered softly in his ear. “Tibet may not be such a bad idea. It’s calm, quiet, exquisite as you named it. And we would be far from the spotlight. It looks great to me.” 

“Y-y-ou really want to go there?” Her hands moved slowly and steadily to his tie and started to unknot it.

“Yes, don’t you?”

“I think we could give it a try.” He replied defeated, his voice hoarse.

“Good.” Adele whispered against his neck, kissing it. And the rest was story.


	7. Regret

There were few things on his life that Gabriel regretted. Many of his behaviours proved that. But that doesn’t mean that there aren’t  _exceptions._

When he was young and an aspiring designer (and as he recalls it, desperate times require desperate measures) he created this one collection that until today it still haunts his dreams.

_The Retro collection,_ as it was called back then by a reckless Gabriel that thought it would be a great idea, was a mixture of every 80’s trend that has gone wrong. It was composed by 35 garments and 15 accessories that would be perfect as a circus wardrobe. (Would Cirque du solei accept that crap? Probably no.)  
People must have loved it because he remembers of the roaring success it was in the  _Young Fashion Show_ (a fashion show where the tops students of every university participated mostly to know their future archenemies in the industry, although the real objective was to win internships). Today, when he looked back at it, he cringed. It was hideous! From the colour schemes to the fabrics used, the shape of the clothes, his personal signature, even his inspiration back then! What did he have in mind when doing that? He didn’t even win the show!

If Gabriel could go back and erase that collection, he would. (Maybe that was his deepest desire that required the miraculouses.) He even tried once or twice but the fashion industry works like  _the cloud. What gets in never gets out,_ even if what you did was a university student they’ll know you did it.

The Retro  _disaster_  is the only thing that ruins his perfect curriculum of collections, like that uncomfortable spot in a window that you can’t clean.

He didn’t regret the akuma designs (they were a great facade to hide his true identity), he didn’t regret becoming Hawk Moth, becoming a hero (in another lifetime), and forgetting that he was living to build his fashion dream. Nope! By the contrary, he was quite proud of those accomplishments because they had to be done. But not this collection, though. It deserved to be burned and buried in the confines of the earth where it should have stayed in the first place.

So while he can’t dissociate  _The Retro mess_  from his name or burn it to ashes, Gabriel lives each day fully in fear that someone finds his darkest (no, his second darkest) secret and recognizes him as the creator.

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know! Gabriel appreciation week was a long time ago but I only came up with the idea of posting my drabbles for it on ao3 now, so here they are! It's always better late than never right?  
> I'll be posting a new chapter per week because I feel it's better than releasing all 7 chapters at once!  
> I hope you enjoy it! <3


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